


Just Drive

by emilysmortimer



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25813993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilysmortimer/pseuds/emilysmortimer
Summary: It’s early in their relationship when her father has his first heart attack. Her mother rings her from the hospital, and she sounds afraid, and Mackenzie feels afraid in turn. She’s a million miles away, and her mother is falling apart, and there’s little she can do to help.
Relationships: Will McAvoy/MacKenzie McHale
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Just Drive

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is just something quick that I got caught up in at 1am. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, thank you to Rachel for gently encouraging me to write this one, and for always supporting my writing.

It’s early in their relationship when her father has his first heart attack. Her mother rings her from the hospital, and she sounds afraid, and Mackenzie feels afraid in turn. She’s a million miles away, and her mother is falling apart, and there’s little she can do to help. 

Of course, her brother and sisters are nearby, will be at the hospital soon, so her mum isn’t truly alone. But nevertheless, Mackenzie feels useless, and the moment she’s off the phone she’s wracked with guilty sobs. 

It’s a little over two months since she and Will had begun dating. They’re still trying to learn everything there is to learn about one another. Will sees Mackenzie - _his_ Mackenzie, though he daren’t say that aloud through fear of pissing her off and making her feel as if she is a mere object that he possesses (but she _is_ his, and he’s hers, and that’s that) - as fearless, brave, a force to be reckoned with. 

And in what little time they’ve known each other, he’s not once seen her cry. 

So this is uncharted territory for him. His Mackenzie, who’s larger than life, looks tiny and frail as she hangs up the phone, tossing it carelessly to the side as she wraps herself up in her own embrace in the centre of her bed and just _sobs._

He’s frozen still for a moment, longer than he’d care to admit, completely unsure of how to approach the situation. 

Does she need his touch, for him to hold her until the tears subside? Does she need to hear his voice, to have him reassure her that everything will be alright, despite the uncertainty of the situation? Or does she need him to leave her be, to be alone as she lets her emotions run freely, to come to him when she’s good and ready? 

In the end, he makes a decision for her. 

Will clambers on to the bed, calloused fingers running deftly through Mackenzie’s dark hair. She barely acknowledges his presence, her body shaking as she cries, gut-wrenching sobs forcing their way up her throat and through her parted lips. 

“Mackenzie?” Will utters her name softly, a useless attempt at getting her attention. 

He sidles up closer to her, his arm coming to wrap around her shoulders, and she collapses into him. Her head burrows against his chest, and he can feel her tears soaking through his t-shirt almost instantly. His heart breaks for her. 

Will vows to never make her cry the way she has tonight. 

Eventually, her sobs subside. Her fingers grasp at his t-shirt, her head pushing up against his chin in an attempt to get closer to him (if at all possible). His hold on her only tightens, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. She whimpers and he lovingly shushes her, muttering sweet nothings to her until it seems she’s collected herself enough to tell him what on Earth the matter is. 

“Daddy had a heart attack,” she tells him matter of factly. “Only a mild one, but large enough to scare the _hell_ out of us all.” 

Though Will has yet to meet Ambassador Mchale, he already feels like he knows the man fairly well. Mackenzie always speaks so fondly of her father, her confidante and best friend when she was growing up. And Will knows how deeply it would destroy her should she lose him. 

“He’ll be okay,” Will tells her lamely. It’s a pathetic attempt at reassurance, but he doesn’t know what else to say. 

All he knows is that it’s verging on 4am, it’s unlikely either of them will fall asleep until they hear from Mackenzie’s mother again, that he _loves her_ so very deeply, and that he has to do something to keep her from falling apart once more. 

Pulling back, he wipes away the remnants of tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, before gently encouraging her to _put some pants on_ She looks momentarily confused, but follows his lead as he climbs from the bed and gets dressed himself. 

He’s not sure how to console her, but perhaps he can distract her for a while. 

____________________

For being largely known as the city that never sleeps, it’s oddly quiet at 4am on a Wednesday morning as they coast through the streets in Will’s SUV.

The radio is on at a low level, playing some medley of mellow 70’s tunes that cut through the silence that has otherwise settled in the vehicle. 

Mackenzie has her legs drawn up to her chest, her head resting against the cool glass of the window as she watches the city go by. She’s not said much since coming off the phone from her mother, and Will doesn’t intend to push her. She’ll talk when she’s good and ready. 

Until then, one another’s company is pleasant enough. 

With no destination in mind, Will simply drives, stealing glances at her every so often. Glances that don’t go unnoticed. His concern is sweet, and were the circumstances different, she’d tell him as much. 

Instead, she lets the near silence consume her. Loses herself in thoughts of England, and her family, and the threat of her parents inevitable demise. 

They’re out of the city before either of them speaks again, driving through a quaint village that, if they hadn’t only been dating for _two months_ , Will might suggest would be an ideal one for raising a family. 

But that would be ridiculous. 

Because it’s still early days, and he doesn’t intend to send her running for the hills. 

Instead, he grasps at her thigh with the hand not on the wheel, squeezing gently. 

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” he asks, and she’s grateful for the distraction, for her thoughts were getting too dark, and her mind was going to a place she wasn’t fond of. 

“Greece,” she tells him simply. And he briefly glances over at her, an eyebrow raised in question, a silent invitation for her to elaborate. 

“Well, obviously, it’s a beautiful country. But it feels like a simpler way of life. Like no one would have any expectations of me. Some days I wish I could just run away and start anew where no one knows me, and just be _happy_.”

He’s a little startled by the confession, worried that her troubles run deeper than her sick father. Perhaps there’s more to her hurt than what’s occurred tonight, something he’s missed, something she’s been too afraid to speak up about. 

But she’s already upset enough as it is, and he doesn’t want to make it worse. So he opts not to question her further. 

“Let’s do it,” he tells her. “Let’s pack our bags and leave this life behind.”

The joyful laugh he gets in response is like music to his ears, and he makes a silent promise to himself that he’ll dedicate the rest of his life to making her laugh. 

“I’m sure there’s a million and one reasons why that would be a horrific idea, but right now, I don’t care. So sure, why not?” 

A slight smile plays on her lips as she glances over at him, and the adoration shining in her eyes is enough to make his heart skip a beat. Were he stood up, he’s certain he’d go weak at the knees from that one look. 

_God_ , he’s in love with her. There’s no use denying it. He’s head over heels in love with Mackenzie Morgan Mchale, and he intends to tell her as soon as possible. 

But not right now. 

It’s probably not the best of moments. 

He momentarily takes his hand from her thigh to fiddle with the radio in an attempt to find something a little more upbeat to see them through the rest of their drive. 

He’s flicking through the stations when Mackenzie tells him to _stop_ , and he pauses on a channel dedicated to the 80’s. 

“I love this song,” she informs him. It takes a moment for him to register what it is they’re listening to. But when he does, a slow smile creeps across his face. 

Because he loves this song too. 

Of course he does. 

It’s one of the best from that decade. 

And despite her mood, Mackenzie starts to sing along. And then so does he, because it really is a great song and it seems to please her and that’s all he wants. 

And then as the chorus starts up, their voices raise in time with the music, and both Mackenzie and Will find themselves practically shouting along with the song. 

_I’m so in love with you  
I’ll be forever blue  
That you gimme no reason  
You know you make-a-me work so hard_

__

__

That you gimme no  
That you gimme no  
That you gimme no  
That you gimme no 

_Soul  
I hear you calling  
Oh baby please  
Give a little respect  
To me  
_ ____________________

It’s a little past 6am when they finally get back to Mackenzie’s apartment. Their cheeks hurt from laughing, their voices are hoarse from their singing (well, it was more _shouting_ than singing, but it’s early, forgive him if he chooses not to get into the specifics), and she seems a little more at ease.

He drops a quick text to their boss, informs him that they’ll be late to work today, that he’ll explain why when he gets there. 

And then he collapses gracelessly onto Mackenzie’s couch. 

His limbs are heavy with exhaustion, and he doubts he’ll stay awake much longer. The night has taken its toll both physically and emotionally, and the two of them are absolutely _exhausted_. 

One long leg hangs lifelessly off the edge of the seat, and he makes a soft grunting noise as Mackenzie all but flops down on top of him, claiming him as her own personal pillow. 

Her limbs curl around him, and any suggestion that they should maybe move this to the bedroom dies on his tongue. 

Because she’s warm and entirely pliant, and he could definitely fall asleep like this - with her head tucked up under his chin, her lips pressing half-hearted kisses to the skin of his chest just visible over the neckline of his shirt, and his senses filled entirely with _Mackenzie_. 

He grumbles something that could be a goodnight. Presses a kiss to the crown of her head. And the last thing he hears before he drifts off to sleep is a quiet __thank you_ uttered into the soft cotton of his t-shirt._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos and comments - they’re much appreciated ♥️


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